


Polaris

by Darksknight



Series: We Will Meet Again [3]
Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Confessions of love, M/M, mature content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-25
Updated: 2017-10-25
Packaged: 2019-01-23 05:47:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,522
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12500156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Darksknight/pseuds/Darksknight
Summary: God, he loved Spock so much. How the hell did they get here? How was he so lucky? All that fear- all that pain, when in the end, of course it was this. Of course it was him and Spock, together. How could it have been any other way?





	Polaris

**Author's Note:**

> Last chapter of In the Shadow of Fate, with the smut included. Reads fine as a solo piece.

The Salimbrans were muscular, red-pink skinned people with long, twin horns curving up from their foreheads. They had curly, thick white hair and no brows, and strange red markings curving from the corners of their eyes, arching up above their eye sockets and down across their cheeks. They had black-painted lips and wore no shirts- they had male and female genders, but it was hard to tell which was which due to their lack of breasts. Jim suspected it had something to do with the markings on their horns; so far, he was pretty sure the women had the darker markings.

They wore seductively-crafted slit pants, which showed their legs in flashes of magenta as they moved, and garnished belts of silver. They had elegant black-painted wrists and three long, slender, clawed fingers on each hand. Their feet were similar- having only two protruding appendages.

They were a very established people, with advanced technology and impressive medical facilities. Their ships were less advanced than most of those in the federation, but what they lacked in technology they more than made up for in litheness. Their ships were small and sleek, and could easily complete maneuvers that most other ships would be unable to perform.

Scotty seemed to be a little taken with the ship that the Crown Prince had shown them about- the Filitstine. Jim reminded the engineer that he had a commitment relationship with the Enterprise. Scotty had scoffed and said, “Captain, I love the Enterprise, I do, sir, but if she can ‘ave two lovers what’s stopping me?”

To which Jim had said, “Who the hell’s her other lover?”

Scotty looked offended. “Captain,” he breathed. “Don’t ya even know your own ship? It’s you, ya’ thickhead!”

Jim had let the insult slide since it was well deserved. “Oh. Right. Carry on.”

The meeting was more of an initiation ceremony than anything. By the time the Enterprise and her crew had arrived, Salimbra and her people had already signed all the treaties bargained for. 

Jim was basically there as the welcoming committee. Not that he minded- the Salimbrans were the ones throwing the party. He and his crew were just there to play nice with the planet’s royalty and answer whatever questions they had.

They were about an hour into the festivities. The party was being held outside the planet’s capital building, in the crown city, which was called Ricahrd. There were long glass tables set up, piled with fruit, and two huge bonfires to the sides of the tables. The planet was warm- nearly uncomfortably so- and the heat the fires put out had Jim gleaming with perspiration. The rest of his crew wasn’t fairing much better, but no one seemed to mind it. Spock was the only one amongst them who looked completely comfortable- Jim would even have gone so far as to say he was ‘in his element.’

And oh, did he look it.

Jim didn’t know why he found the sight of Spock in dress uniform so appealing, but it was undeniable. Spock looked beautiful in the orange light of the fires, his body loose and pliant, his hair a dark splotch against the ruby night sky. Salimbra’s three moons trailed after one another at Spock’s back, casting eerie red lights over this face. He looked unreal, and sharp, and beautiful. Jim licked his lips- blaming it on the heat- but he couldn’t move his eyes from Spock’s body.

A couple of Salimbran kids ran past Spock, trilling with high, bell-like laughter as they tripped around his shoes. One of them held back from the group as they ran ahead and daringly reached up to pluck curiously at the material of Spock’s shirt. Spock raised a brow at the child and they fell over laughing, gesturing happily at Spock’s face. The other kids came hustling back to see what all the fuss was about. Spock raised a brow at them, as well. They followed the first child’s example and proceeded to laugh earnestly, hands over their cheeks as they fell back into the dirt.

Spock would lower his brow until they stopped laughing. Then, when each child was still and focussed intently upon his face again, he’d raise it once more. Jim laughed watching him repeat the ritual, to the children’s delight.

“Captain Kirk.”

Jim turned in time to receive one of the minor princes onto his lap. That was another reason Spock was so far away from the table- physical contact was a must between the Salimbrans. All around the table they were situated on each other’s persons as shows of friendship.

Jim swallowed as the prince- a very handsome man with wonderfully toned biceps- ran his finger under the curve of Jim’s jaw. “For a man such as yourself to be alone,” he clicked his tongue. “A true sadness, I say.”

Jim grinned and put his hands on the prince’s hips, as he’d been shown to the last time they’d been on the planet. “You flatter me, your highness. But my people are not used to the heat- I’m sure no one’s sitting on my lap because they’re afraid it will get too hot.”

“If it is too hot,” the prince said, and tugged eagerly at Jim’s tunic, “Divest yourself of covering.”

Jim didn’t know what to do but comply. He was uncomfortable in his stuffy dress shirt anyway, and the prince was right. He shrugged out of the uniform with the help of the prince's eager hands. The night air felt good against Jim's sweaty skin. He watched the prince toss the dress shirt onto an empty chair and laughed.

“This must be better for you, my dear human.” The prince grinner. His teeth gleamed like pearl in the moons’ light. “I have yet to name myself. Echor, for you, Captain Kirk.”

“Why thank you, Prince Echor.” Jim smiled up at him.

“Only Echor, please, I insist. And let me call you only Kirk. Make me happy, Captain.”

“Kirk it is, then.”

“Oh, delightful,” Echor clicked his tongue happily and leaned down, bumping his forehead to Jim’s in a quick kiss. He pulled back and waited for Jim’s reaction.

“I’m flattered,” Jim managed after a moment.

“Then you will let me take you to my room and lavish you with much pleasure.” Echor said. He began to run his hands through Jim’s hair. “I have never had a human to spoil with much attentions. Allow me to do this to you, Kirk.”

“I can’t,” Jim said with a huff.

The prince’s smile fell. “Have I displeased you?”

“No, not at all!”

“My form, then? I would render the room in darkness so you would feel only my loving, to not see a sight your human eyes displeased.”

“No, no, you’re- you’re quiet attractive.” Jim said.

The prince frowned. “I have read of you humans,” he said. “It is true, then. That there are those amongst you who are aroused only by their counter… what was it you called it? Gender?”

“I’m not one of them,” Jim laughed. “And yes, that’s the right word. The translator makes it kind of awkward, doesn’t it?”

“Extremely.” The prince sighed. Then he perked up. “You are religious!”

Jim tilted his head to the side. “Religious?”

The prince clicked his tongue eagerly. “Yes, yes. Those who are committed to the ways of Vasha bind themselves to another, and they are with them forever, as if in blood.”

“Oh. Like… mariage?”

“Yes! Yes, the translator is saying the word I am hoping to hear, yes.” He smiled wide again. “You are of a marriage. You are, Kirk.”

“Well…” He looked across the way, to where the children were conversing eagerly with Spock, all sitting at his feet and touching their toes to his boots. Spock seemed invested in the conversation, which made Jim smile softly. “I want to be.”

Echor followed his gaze. “Ah, yes, I see now,” he said. “It is the Vulcan way to be with one other only. You are to follow the ways of his people, Kirk. I can see this, and I understand I have no place amongst it. I will kiss you once more in farewell.”

They didn’t ask questions. They made statements and you said yes or no. Jim smiled and said, “Alright, that sounds good to me.”

“I am delighted by this,” Echor said. He bumped their foreheads together again, softly, and then reluctantly backed up, slipping off of Jim’s lap. “I will see you in your sleep,” Echor said. Jim resisted the urge to cringe, thinking that they really had to program a better translation for the Salimbran’s traditional farewell.

“I will see you in your sleep,” he repeated.

Echor paused over the tripping words as they were translated back, and then clicked his tongue again. Apparently, he liked the faulty translation about as much as Jim did.

Jim watched him go. He had time to sigh before Uhura was situating herself firmly in his lap, roping her arms around his neck. “You,” she said, “Are a dirty whore, Kirk.”

“And you’re insubordinate, Uhura.” Jim grinned at her.

“Making out with a prince, what will the Admiralty have to say?”

“What, I accidentally head-butted and alien. Demote me.”

She laughed.

“To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure of your company, Uhura?” Jim smiled.

“I’ve worked up a translation,” Uhura said. “I watched you two cringe apart and decided I’d fix this before we offended someone by accident.” 

“That’s wonderful to hear,” Jim looked over to Spock. The Vulcan was saying ‘fascinating,’ Jim recognized the word in the move of Spock’s lips. The children started to laugh again. Spock was showing them the Vulcan ta’al. They were delighted- they had precisely enough digits to complete it.

Uhura followed his gaze and smirked. “I’ll dream of you,” she said.

“Excuse me?”

“It’s the goodbye. It’s to say that your meeting was significant enough that they hope it will come up in their dreams. Dreams are nearly religious here, sir.”

“Excellent.” Jim swallowed hard as the children excitedly began to motion at their torsos, standing to leap around Spock in excitement. Patiently, the Vulcan gave in to their demands and began to remove his tunic. “Make a… a note of it, and we’ll get it filtered into the translator.” Spock’s muscles were contoured by the flickering shadows the fire rendered over his chest.

Uhura nodded. “Sir,” she said. She made to rise and then aborted the movement, settling back down on Jim’s lap. “Oh, and sir?”

“Yes, Lieutenant?”

“Try not to drool.”

Jim glared at her.

She winked and rose from his lap.

Jim sighed. At least he didn’t have anyone draped over him any-

“This is ridiculous.”

Never mind.

“Bones,” Jim said. He wrapped his arms around Leonard’s waste and grinned. “How can I help you?”

“I’ve got to drape myself all over you and of course you’re loving it. Where the hell’s your shirt? Let me guess- someone squint at you too hard and it ripped off?”

“Bones, have I ever told you how hilarious you are? Honestly, you should do a comedy stint in the mess next time we’re holding a performance night.”

“Yeah, and you’ll be right up there with me, with the jokes you’re making.” Bones snorted. He looked across the clearing, to where a lithe Salimbran was watching them with deep amber eyes. Bones smiled at the alien. Jim guessed it was a her, but from a distance, he couldn’t be sure.

“So, did you come over here to get in on a piece of the shirtless-Kirk action, or?”

Bones snorted. “I see you shirtless enough when you come in to sickbay.”

“So it’s ‘or’ then. Let’s hear it.”

“Well. I’m the CMO. So really, I don’t even need your permission.” Bones started.

Jim knew what it was about right away. His smile threatened to split his face as he said, “Bones! You son of a bitch, I didn’t know you had it in you!”

“Quiet, Spock’ll hear you and I’ll never live it down,” McCoy said. “I forgot about his freaky Vulcan hearing once Jim. Never again.”

“You know, he still likes to mention off-hand that you think he’s the best first officer in the-“

“Never mind that, you’ll kill my mood.” Bones said. He blushed, but powered on nonetheless. “Jim. I’m going to go back to Werena’s quarters and we’re going to share a glass of something she calls Tal’veck.”

“Well, hey, sounds good to me.” Jim grinned. He’d made the mistake of saying ‘you know what you can and can’t do’ before sending Bones on his way exactly once. Bones had exploded that no, apparently he didn’t, or Starfleet wouldn’t have made it so that you had to get Captain’s permission to make “first contact” as well.

“Good.” Bones squirmed on Jim’s lap. “And one more thing.”

“I’m pretty sure you know how to use protection.”

Bones glared. “Not that, you moron.” He lowered his voice. “I think that lady’s making the moves on Spock.”

“What?” Jim whipped his head up so fast it was a miracle he didn’t get whiplash. Sure enough, there was a woman draping herself against Spock’s chest just a ways off, balancing one of the children Spock had been entertaining on her hip. “Son of a-“

Bones grinned, glad that the tables had turned. “Thanks, Jim, have a good evenin’. I’ll see you while you’re sleeping, or however it is the saying goes.”

Jim didn’t even notice him leave. He was intently focused on Spock, who looked about as pliant as a column of marble. His hands were linked stiffly behind his back, his face was a brick wall, and his feet were planted like he was prepared to sprint away. Jim decided to take pity on him- he wasn’t jealous, or anything, he just wanted Spock to be comfortable.

Mostly.

There was, admittedly, a little tiny bit of jealousy there, but mostly it was honest concern for Spock. He’d always swoop in to save Spock from tactile species so long as Spock looked to be unhappy with the contact, and if that just so happened to fall in line with Jim’s agenda anyway, well, that was great.

He hurried across the clearing.

“Spock!” He said. He grinned wide and leaned up, bumping their foreheads together. The woman did not look disappointed or offended, but she stepped back to make room for Jim. She’d just been making friendly conversation, then. Still, Jim attached himself to Spock, taking note in the way that Spock relaxed as the woman removed herself from his person.

“Ah, this must be the Captain Kirk,” she said. She smiled. “I am pleasing to be making your acquaintance.”

God, the translator was struggling with this language. “It’s nice to meet you, too.” He didn’t know her well enough to ask for her name, but she knew his already, so he said, “I'll have your name.”

“Not yet, but I will give yours back,” she said. “Captain.”

“Ma’am.”

She smiled. “The Commander was telling me of the time you managed to out-wit a computer! Is this so?”

“Which one?” Jim laughed.

“You do not know which one.” She stated. She sounded confused.

“Oh. I do not know which one.” He said.

“Ah. Well the Commander was calling it the creation. He said you used logic to initiate a self-destruct of the robot, which believed itself purposeless from your words. How barbaric, I am very pleased to be hearing of this.”

“Oh, thank you.”

She reached out and plucked at the material of his pants. “Yes.”

She was probably a different dialect than the others he had been talking to so far, which would explain why the translator was having such difficulty. Jim looked across the learning and spotted Uhura, on Nurse Chapel’s lap. They were talking animatedly with a pair of Salimbra women, so Jim decided against separating them.

“It is hard to understand me.” The woman in front of them guessed.

“It is,” Spock admitted. “However, we do not mind struggling to understand in order to speak with you.”

“Oh I am pleasing. Thanks of your persons.”

Jim laughed.

She laughed as well.

“You are religious,” she said then. “How long have you following Vasha?”

Jim flushed.

“I do not understand,” Spock said.

“Two years.” Jim blurted.

Spock raised a brow. Jim didn’t make eye-contact.

“Two years!” She clicked her tongue. “A very good time. I myself tried religion in my youth, but it was not the way I am to taking.” She turned and showed off the child on her hip, who appeared to be dosing. “But I was blessed for my following!”

“Fascinating,” Spock said. “May I ask about how it is you were blessed?”

“I do not understand.”

“He will ask about how your procured the child.” Jim stated.

“Oh, he will.” She turned towards Spock, expectantly.

Spock said, “I am unsure how to pose my query without asking a question.”

“I’ll help,” Jim said.

“I wish to ask. Was it you that became pregnant, or a partner? Is it expected that the one who is pregnant will then become the parent of the subsequent offspring?”

“You became pregnant with your son.” Jim said.

“I did!” She said.

“You were expected to become your son’s mother.”

She shook her head. “No, no, you must have the child’s destined parent selected by the priest. He will observe the two and decide which is to be giving the baby the best of the care.”

“I see,” Spock said. “Does gender have any baring on the outcome?”

“It is because you are a woman that the priest gave you your son.” Jim said.

“No. We do not do this… gender, that you do. I do not understand it.”

“Fascinating,” Spock said again.

Jim smiled fondly at him. He moved a little closer and was momentarily distracted by the feel of Spock’s chest hair. Jim’s chest was naked, too, he realized. That was a lot of skin-to-skin contact for Spock to read with. Jim knew if he suddenly threw his shields up, Spock would be curious, so instead he started thinking really, really hard about spaghetti.

Spock turned to him, brows raised. “Jim, are you hungry?”

“Just craving spaghetti,” Jim lied.

“I will procure-“

“No, no, don’t bother, Spock, it’s all good. I'll shield, sorry.” Jim held Spock in place, throwing his mental shields up before he could begin to feel guilty about the white lie he'd given Spock. He turned back to the Salimbran. “You have had your son for many years.”

“I have had my son for six years,” she happily said. She turned her hip again so that they could see the boy. “He is a skilled dancer and he will bring much gluten to our family.”

Spock and Jim turned to each other, brows furrowed.

Finally, Jim said, “He will bring… gluten.”

She blinked. She clicked her tongue. “He will bring find a.” She frowned. “He will bring sell.”

Jim sighed. He leaned around the woman and yelled, “Lieutenant!”

She whipped her head around.

Jim gestured. “Tell her the word.”

The woman yelled, “Cro’krak’yuu!”

“Good fortune in the context of wealth and status!” Uhura called out.

“There we go,” Jim sighed. “Jesus, that was hard for the translator.”

“…” The woman frowned even further. “I don’t understand that word.”

“Never mind,” Jim hurried. It was probably ‘Jesus’ that had tripped up the translator. “I’m glad he’s a good dancer. Is that- I mean. That is the best thing you can be around here.”

“Unless you are a prince,” she said. She smiled again, and held her son closer, nuzzling the top of his head with her nose. “Yes, it is a very good thing to dance.”

It was as if her words started something. 

"My people! My company!" The crown prince stood, unearthing two of his people from his lap. He called out, “The dance begins!”

Many of the aliens let out whoops of delight, and Jim found himself laughing and hollering along. The crown prince stood and then started towards the cleaning between the two fires. There had been music playing the entire gathering, but with the sudden absence of conversation it roared to life. The prince began to move, body fluid and rippling, his skin painted orange by the light of the flame. The crowd cheered, shaking their heads so that the rings on their horns clinked loudly together.

Jim laughed. An instrument like the violin started up, and a man with a lovely voice began to sing in a language Jim couldn’t understand. Spectators of the crowd began to step out into the dirt, rolling their hips and moving theirs wrists above their heads. The dance had begun.

Jim watched Chekov materialize in the crowd, three Salimbrans dancing with him- two men and one women, if Jim could read their stripes correctly. Chekov threw back his head and laughed, orbiting between his three friends. He looked small in comparison to the alien’s bulk, and his movements were awkward in comparison, but his company appeared to delight them.

Jim turned to Spock, whose chest he was still leaning into. “Well, Mr. Spock, what’d you say to a dance?”

“It would be illogical to refuse,” Spock said.

Jim’s face lit up in delight. He slipped away from Spock and then turned to face the Vulcan, swaying his body in a close mimic of the prince’s. Spock only watched him for a moment, eyes reflecting the play of the flames at Jim’s back. Jim winked at him.

Spock stepped forward, body beginning to move. Jim had to command himself not to stop and stare. Spock moved just as the Salimbrans did; hips fluid, wrists erotic and loose. Jim swallowed hard. Of course Spock would be able to dance- he’d probably watched the Salimbrans and then turned their movements into an easy equation of steps and time, which he was able to solve without thought.

Jim was enticed. He could feel his heart beginning to beat faster with excitement and knew he was blushing. He felt some sort of electric charge building between them and wondered if maybe, Spock could feel it to. Spock’s eyes looked hungry and dark as they trailed Jim’s body. Jim hoped with every fiber of his being that he wasn’t imagining it.

As tactile as the Salimbrans were, they never touched when they danced. They came close, hands skimming just above each other, leaning their heads in to brush past each other’s cheeks. Jim saw one couple nearly bump noses, but they redirected themselves at the last moment.

He longed to reach out and hold Spock’s hips. He made a pass at it, fingers coming so close he could feel the heat rolling off of Spock’s skin, but he didn’t touch. Spock rolled his shoulders and stepped closer.

Jim opened his mouth to breath better as Spock dipped his head down. Jim felt Spock’s nose just barely pass over his cheek before Spock moved back, stepping away, his body broadcasting an easily deciphered 'come hither.' Jim followed after him, stomach flooded with heat. Spock was like black hole, absorbing all the light in the world, eating up Jim’s gaze. Jim felt he would be consumed and wasn’t scared by the prospect.

Spock seemed unashamed of his partial nudity and provocative movements, a stark contrast to the way he’d been when they’d first started their five year tour. Spock had changed over the years, and Jim couldn’t help but feel a small pain of loss for that awkward, introverted boy who’d hidden his fingers in the cuffs of his sweater. The pain and passed in a millisecond's time. As Spock moved his head and caught the light his face was illuminated, and the shadows of his cheekbones disappeared, and Jim could see that same, little kid in the Vulcan’s features. Jim’s heart throbbed with happiness. No matter how far they came, or how long they lived, Jim would always be able to find the kid he’d known better than himself in Spock’s features, hiding in the fullness of his lips, in the gentleness of his eyes.

Spock looked up from under his lashes and made another move towards Jim. All thoughts of the child he knew were gone in an instant, and in there place fell a lust for the man Spock had become.

Jim wasn’t sure how much more he could take.

Luckily- or unluckily, depending on how one looked at it- it was around then there was a commotion on the other side of the tables. Jim looked up and saw one of their red shirts and one of their gold looked close to blows. Jim looked to Spock and shrugged, a 'what can you do about it' sort of gesture.

“Duty calls,” he breathed. He cleared his throat, realizing how husky he’d sounded. “I’ll just,” he pointed and then turned to hurry over to the two.

It was a minor fight over something that had happened between them months ago, apparently. Jim put on his Captain’s face and scolded them for going at it on a diplomatic missions. He then ordered them to both return to the ship. He was hyperaware of Spock at his shoulder the entire time.

“Well.” He turned back to Spock with a forced smile. “I think it’s about time I beamed back up, too. The heat's getting to me.”

“I will accompany you.” Spock said.

“All partied out?”

Spock said, “It is unbecoming of an officer of my position to be improperly dressed before his crewmates for such an extended period of time.”

“Can’t imagine what they think of me, then,” Jim laughed, gesturing to his own bare chest.

Spock’s eyes flicked down to look for a split second. He looked back up to Jim’s eyes and said nothing.

Jim felt his stomach tighten in arousal. It was the music, the lights, the several glasses of the Tal’veck he’d consumed- something.

Or maybe it was just Spock. Maybe it had always been Spock.

Jim looked away from the Vulcan hurriedly, afraid his eyes would telegraph his naked desire. “I’ll say farewell to the head prince. Would you mind finding Sulu to let him know he’s in charge and that we’re beaming back up?”

“I will do so.” Spock turned and left.

Jim felt instantly lighter- like he could breathe again. He sucked in a deep breath and told himself to get it under control before he made his way over to where the prince was leaning against the table refreshing himself. He was covered in sweat- or maybe it was oil? Jim didn’t care.

“Crown Prince,” Jim said.

The prince turned. “Captain,” he said. “We meet once more. Did you enjoy the dance?”

“Very much so,” Jim said. “You’re a skilled dancer.”

The prince grinned. “You are not so bad for an off-worlder.”

“Thank you.” Jim smiled. “My first officer and I are retiring for the evening. We’re allowing our people to remain here for as long as they’d like, but if at any time you’d like them to leave just tell them so. Any one of my officers will find their commanding officer and then they’ll get everyone back to the ship.”

“Your people may stay as long as they please, Captain,” the prince said. “I quite enjoy their presence.”

“You are very generous,” Jim said.

“I will be more so,” he said. “Any who wish to stay upon the planet are welcome to the open rooms within the palace. I ask only they leave the palace as it was before they came.”

“Thank you,” Jim said. He pulled out his comm and sent a quick message with the information to his senior staff. “I’ve just let them know. Thank you again, for your hospitably.”

“I will see you in your sleep,” the prince said.

“I’ll dream of you,” Jim said. Those words seemed to translate over much better, for the prince grinned in delight and clicked his tongue ‘goodbye.’ Jim made his way through the throngs of people- Starfleet and Salimbran alike- and found Spock; a coppery-green beacon amongst pinks and creams and browns.

“Ready to go, Mr. Spock?”

Spock dipped his head and pressed his badge. “Mr. Kyle,” he said. “Two to beam up.”

“Yes, sir.”

Jim watched the world blur gold. In moments, they were back aboard the Enterprise. Jim instantly sighed, breathing in the cool recycled air. He hadn’t realized just how hot it had been on Salimbra’s surface until he was suddenly in his usual atmosphere again. He looked to his right and saw that Spock looked uncomfortable already- wether it was because he was shirtless in front of Mr. Kyle or because the Enterprise was markedly cooler than Salimbra, Jim wasn’t sure.

“Mr. Kyle,” Jim nodded towards him and started out of the transporter room.

“Wild party, sir?”

“You could say that,” Jim laughed.

Spock was on his heals. They left the transporter room and then headed towards the lift, Jim intent on going back to his quarters. He looked to his side and smiled as Spock discretely crossed his arms to conserve warmth. He couldn’t help it- he laughed.

Spock raised a brow. “Is there something amusing you, sir?”

“Just you,” Jim said.

Spock said, “I fail to see what is so amusing about my person.”

“Oh, just that sometimes I can totally see the little kid in the oversized sweater from my Iowa summers.” Jim smiled over at Spock, his heart swelling in his chest. “I think I’ve got an electric blanket in my room.”

“An electric blanket?” Spock raised a brow.

Jim chuckled. “Oh, you’re going to love this.”

The lift carried them to the personnel quarters deck. The lights were low, as Alpha shift had ended several hours before. Their were a few officers stumbling on to their quarters, likely having come back from the party themselves. The smell of smoke permeated the decks, having followed them from the planet’s surface to the Enterprise. Jim reached his door and put in his code, allowing himself and Spock inside.

As soon as the door shushed closed behind him, Jim was faced with a sudden realization. They were alone. Completely, and totally alone, and due to be off-shift until the later hours of the morning.

Jim took in the sight of Spock’s back in the dim of his quarters. The low light made Spock looked even stronger than usual, as the shadows hiding beneath his muscles had stretched longer and darker than they would in the light. Jim was momentarily assaulted by the urge to reach out and run his hands over Spock’s shoulders.

_No_ , he reminded himself. 

He tore his eyes away from Spock’s skin and slipped around the Vulcan, heading towards his bed. He knelt before it, pulling the drawers out from underneath.

He cleared his throat. “Should be in here,” he said. His voice sounded loud. He recovered the long, black blanket moments later and held it up, giving a short, “Aha!” of victory. He pressed the control button on the corner and turned back to Spock.

Spock had very silently walked towards Jim whilst he was searching for the blanket. As Jim stood and turned he nearly bashed his head into Spock’s chin, stepping back at the last moment. His legs his the edge of the bed and he fell back, sitting heavily.

“H-here.” He winced at the stutter. Hoping Spock hadn't caught it, he coughed slightly and looked at his lap, incensed by his body’s betrayal.  _Be cool,_ he told himself. 

“Thank you, Jim.” Spock sat softly next to Jim on the bed, pulling the blanket around his shoulders.

Jim stood, eager to put distance between them. He didn’t trust himself not to do something stupid when he was within touching distance of Spock. He swallowed again and hoped desperately that Spock didn’t hear him. Spock was a genius- he’d put the signs together.

“I can’t believe you danced,” Jim said. He turned to his closet and started rooting around for a sleeping shirt, to give his hands something to do. It was easier to speak when he didn’t have to look at Spock.

“Why is it hard to believe?” Spock asked. His voice was like smoke.

Jim gripped a shirt and pulled it very deliberately from the hanger. The things Spock’s voice did to him… “Just, you know. It seems like letting go of control.”

“Vulcans dance,” Spock said. “It is an art form, like music.”

“I just didn’t know you did.” Jim said. He turned back around, wringing his sleep shirt between his hands. “It was… nice.” He forced himself not to wince. He looked up and saw Spock had raised a bow. “Really nice,” Jim said, and looked back down at his mangled shirt. Great. That had made it even worse.

“I am glad you enjoyed it,” Spock said.

“Y-yeah.” Jim stood in the middle of his bedroom. He didn’t know what to do. It felt like some chasm stretched between them, full of hot, heavy things that Jim could never voice. Spock wasn’t flushed, or sweaty, or showing any signs of discomfort- or arousal, sadly. Jim had to get himself under control.

“I enjoyed your dancing as well.”

“Huh?” Jim looked up. “My dancing?”

“It was…” Spock tilted his head to the side, seemingly searching for the word he wanted. “Sensual," he decided.

Jim blushed. He turned around to cover it up and started to mess with his shirt again. He needed to just reach up and pull it over his head already, but goddamn it, his palms were sweaty and if he didn’t have something to do with his hands he’d be lost. And. Fuck. He was supposed to reply to Spock.

He laughed, loud and sudden. It was fine- it was cool! Jim had that playboy reputation as a flirt that could cushion any interaction he was failing.

He turned around and smirked. “Spock!” He said, delighted by the compliment. That was all he would be- delighted. Nothing more. “Stop falling in love with me,” he teased.

His words fell between them, flightless. Jim stared at Spock, who stared back, proper and prim and sitting up straight even when his hair was ruffled and he was curled beneath a blanket.

“I cannot,” Spock said.

Jim blinked. “What?”

“I cannot,” Spock repeated. He sounded choked. “I am unable to cease.”

Jim felt his brain stop. His heart went out moments later. Then he re-started, brain coming back on line, heart firing off rapidly in his chest. Spock had said. But. They. Spock was implying. It. He. There was no way.

Jim swallowed heavily again. Spock surely had to hear it.

“I have tried,” Spock said. “I have meditated on these feelings for more hours than I would care to admit. I have done all I could think to do to dissuade these feelings I have developed, but to no effect, Jim.”

“Wh-“ Jim took a jerky step forward and stopped. “Wait. Let me. Let me get this straight are you. Are you saying that… that you. You’re in love with me?”

Spock dropped his head- a nod that seemed to broadcast that he was ready for the firing squad. “I am,” Spock whispered, and he sounded pained.

Jim could only stare.

Spock stood, so suddenly that the blanket fell off of his shoulders and landed in a crumbled pile on the floor. “I understand if you need time to come to terms with this truth,” he said. He started towards the bathroom door, brushing past Jim’s shoulder. “I ask only that you do not transfer me from this vessel, as I-“

Jim whipped around as it settled in. “Spock!” He grabbed Spock’s shoulder and jerked the Vulcan around to face him. “Spock,” he breathed. He ran his hands up and down Spock’s biceps, feeling his face begin to break into a smile. “You stupid Vulcan. All the clues were there and you still thought I-“ he laughed, giddy.

“Jim?”

“I love you.” Jim whispered. He took another step forward, over the shirt he’d dropped on the ground. “I love-love you. Like, I- I want to hold your hand, and kiss you, and… and…”

Spock seemed just as taken aback as Jim had been. His eyes were huge and wide, dark and beautiful. Jim laughed a little and then leaned forward, slowly, so that Spock could have time to back away if it wasn’t what he wanted.

"Spock," he whispered, and his breath touched Spock's mouth.

"Jim," Spock breathed.

Their lips met, soft and hesitant. 

Jim felt his stomach drop out as his heart freed itself from his ribcage. Spock, Spock, oh how he’d wanted, and waited, and wished, and now- now…

Spock reached up and delicately cupped Jim’s jaw, pulling back a millimeter to whisper, “Jim.” His nose skimmed Jim’s. He tilted his head and their lips touched again. Spock pressed in, telegraphing his intent as he slid his eyes shut.

Jim could have melted. He wasn’t sure he hadn’t.

He opened his mouth to Spock and felt the Vulcan respond in kind. It was nothing like he’d ever had before- no frenzy, no desperation, no hurry. He smoldered for Spock; a deep, consuming burn that’d been building his entire life. He felt eclipsed by his desire, like it outshone everything within him- like he was a part of Spock, finally sliding home. It was more than he’d ever dreamed and _oh_ had he dreamed. 

Spock moaned. It was enough to make Jim’s breath catch. He’d never dared to hope for such results. He felt like crying and then realized, in near horror, he might have been close to it. He forced his eyes closed and wrapped his arms around Spock’s neck, sighing into the Vulcan’s mouth as he leaned them both against the bathroom door. 

Kissing Spock was like laying in the sun. It was like naps in the barn and hot tea and fuzzy socks and big, downy comforters over his head while he watched snow fall outside his window. It was everything he could fit into happiness and comfort, and more. It was the feeling deep in his gut that urged him forward, saying _there’s more, there’s always more._ Spock was _finally_ close enough to grasp and he’d wanted for so, so long. He could feel Spock’s mind against his and knew they’d both waited longer than they had needed to, but that was alright. They had all the time in the universe.

Jim slid his hands down Spock’s arms until their fingers brushed. Spock jolted back, knocking his head on the door. He looked down at Jim with dilated pupils, so far gone that the black’s consumed the brown but for a thin ring. Spock’s face was flushed Orion green, his lips dark and tempting as the peak of green tongue beyond his teeth. 

“Spock,” Jim breathed. He ran their finger tips over each other. Spock slammed his eyes closed and breathed harshly. “I love you so much, I’m so- Spock. Spock, I’ve wanted you for so long, Spock-“

“Your words are dear to me,” Spock rumbled. “Your mouth simply tempts me beyond reason.” It was his only explanation before he was biting at the swell of Jim’s lower lip, tugging and nipping and licking his way into familiarity.

Jim was momentarily stunned by Spock’s ability to kiss before realizing their minds were connected, if even just barely- anything Jim did and knew, Spock got on feed-back. Jim felt his pulse jump with the realization and wove his fingers with Spock’s. It felt good. 

Jim tugged Spock away from the door, stumbling back towards his bed. He fell in first, afraid for a second he’d have to awkwardly ask Spock to get in on top of him, but Spock’s telepathy came through. Spock gently crawled up over Jim, bracketing his hips with his legs. Spock brought their mouths back together, gentle and slow. 

“I want to-“ Jim pushed his face into Spock’s neck, winding his fingers into the hair at the back of Spock’s head. “I want.” He pulled Spock flush to him, so that their bare chests were pressed together. He let out a long sigh of contentment at the sensation and gently rolled his hips up into Spock’s. 

Spock kissed at the side of Jim’s face. He didn’t pull away, rather, he took up the rhythm Jim set, a gentle ebb and flow, like the tides upon the shore. Jim stopped moving in order to play with Spock’s hair, but Spock kept rocking his hips into Jim’s. 

Jim couldn’t recall being so aroused in his life. He was worried that it would only take a fleeting, careful touch from Spock to unspool the thin threads of control he had left. He swallowed against the lump in his throat and Spock leaned down to kiss his neck, gently, intense, pressing and warm and so close, Jim couldn’t breath.

Jim hitched and breath and felt his eyes fill with moisture. Spock looked up sharply in alarm and Jim laughed, reaching up to wipe his face. “Happy tears,” he explained. “Sorry. I’m an emotional wreck but- I can _feel_ how much you love me and Spock. Spock, god you’re so much. You’re just so much.”

Spock leaned forward and kissed Jim’s cheek. “You are everything,” he said. Jim laughed again, and Spock reached up to brush away a few errant tears. He kissed Jim’s eyelids, and his chin, and the tip of his nose. Jim laughed again. “You are very dear to me,” Spock said. “I would see that you are this happy always.”

“I don’t know if my heart can handle tha-“ Jim broke off into a hushed groan as Spock rocked into him again. He went back to kissing Spock with an open mouth, exploring slowly, the way he’d always wanted to.

He trailed his hands down Spock’s back, up, and down, up and down, scratching lightly with blunt nails. Every time his hands met the hem of Spock’s pants he paused, before trailing his finger back up. Finally couldn’t take it any longer and hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of Spock’s pants. 

Spock pulled back, sensing the question in Jim’s mouth. 

“May I?”

Spock looked down and then back up to Jim’s face. He leaned down and kissed Jim sweetly, murmuring, “Yes.”

Jim pushed the pants down over Spock’s hips. Spock backed up and then rose, standing at the end of the bed. He unbuttoned his slacks and then pushed them down, pulling off his shoes and socks as he went. He leaned forward when he was left in his briefs, pulling one of Jim’s boots off, and then the next. He pealed the socks from Jim’s feet, kissing Jim’s ankles as he went. 

Jim laughed, quietly.

Spock slipped back onto the bed to hover over Jim, pulling the fly of Jim’s pants down. Jim lifted his hips, helping to get them off, and then kicked the clothes off the bed. There was something uniquely erotic about Spock’s bare legs. Jim had seen Spock’s chest on several occasions, but he couldn’t recall seeing the Vulcan’s legs, and something about that made him realize just how far they’d come. He tangled their legs together, running his foot along the back of Spock’s calve. 

They couldn’t have been close enough. 

They couldn’t have been closer. 

“Oh Spock.” Jim kissed the Vulcan’s jaw, tenderly, and reached up to run his fingers through shiny black hair. He pressed his face into Spock’s throat, trying to catch his breath. He let out small, breathy moans as Spock began to rock their erections together again. 

“I thought-“ Spock cut off with a small grunt when Jim began to suck a love mark into his neck. “I had thought, when I saw you with the Salimbran-“

“The one who kissed me?” Jim laughed a little. “He was nice, but no. He’s not you.”

Spockpulled himself away from Jim, giving them room to look at each other. “Jim,” he said, softly. He used one of his hands to kiss Jim in the Vulcan way, running their fingers together tenderly. Spock shuddered with the movement, gazing at Jim steadily from beneath half-lidded eyes. 

God, he loved Spock so much. How the hell did they get here? How was he so lucky? All that fear- all that pain, when in the end, of course it was this. Of course it was him and Spock, together. How could it have been any other way?

Jim fumbled for the bedside table, managing to somehow procure a condom and a bottle of lubrication. Spock raised a brow at the appearance of the tools, but Jim just laughed and said, “Big thanks to your parents for getting Vulcan-Human sexual relations medically approved in the Federation.” 

Spock made a face. It was as close to an expression of disgust as Jim had ever seen him come.

He laughed. “Do you want to?” 

“Explain.”

Jim grinned. “Do you want to make logical, methodical love to me, Mr. Spock?”

Spock raised a brow. 

“I’m just kid-“

“As a matter of fact, Captain,” Spock leaned down, kissing his stomach, and then looked up at Jim from under his lashes. “I do.”

“O-oh.” Jim squirmed as Spock went lower, until finally he took the elastic band of Jim’s underwear between his fingers and gently removed them. Jim kicked the material off of his ankle and over the side of the bed, gasping when Spock surged back against him. “Spock-“

“Yes, Jim?”

“Shut up,” Jim laughed. He leaned up for a kiss and Spock met him half way.

Jim started to smile into the kiss. He was sure he was ruining it, but he couldn’t help it. His smile stretched, until Spock’s lips met Jim’s teeth. Jim laughed was about to apologize when a warm hand closed around his length. Jim gasped, bucking into the sudden pressure, and threw his his head back against the pillow. 

Spock began to idly stroke him, leaning up to kiss at Jim’s throat. “Jim,” he hummed. 

“Hi,” Jim choked. He reached up and put a hand on the back of Spock’s head. “That- ah- that feels- that feels nice, Spock.”

Spock said nothing. He continued to press kisses and small nips to Jim’s throat and jaw. Jim felt his legs began to tremble and regretfully pulled Spock’s hand off of his hardness. He put the bottle of lube into Spock’s empty hand.

“Could you… would you want to, uh-“

“I find it hard to believe that a man with your promiscuous reputation would have trouble articulating the word ‘sex,’ but I have no reservations about making this easier for you, Jim.” Spock nosed the soft flesh behind Jim’s ear. “If you wish to engage in sexual relations, I would be… a most willful participant.”

Jim laughed.

"Would you like to be the receiving party or would you prefer that to be me?"

"Receiving party," Jim chuckled.

Spock raised a brow.

"Spock, I was  _born_ to bottom for you." He grinned. "In other words- yes, I would be delighted to be the 'receiving party' if you wouldn't mind filling in the roll of the giving party."

"I find this... quite agreeable," Spock breathed.

There was the sound of the bottle’s cap coming open, and then Spock was pressing his fingers into Jim, gentle, and slow. Jim hissed at the coldness of the lube and the sudden intrusion.

“Are you-“

“I’m okay, Spock.” Jim let out a breathy sigh. “Better than okay. Keep going.”

Spock’s response was to go slower, though he kept himself steady. Jim closed his eyes and focused on breathing, only to be interrupted by lips on his own again. He moaned and reached up, cupping Spock’s jaw with two hands as their tongues met. He’d never considered it a particularly electric sensation before then, but with Spock, everything was like lightning. 

Spock built up a slow rhythm, pushing his fingers in and out. He paused only to apply more lube to his fingers and then bent back to his task, slowly and methodically taking Jim apart. Jim was used to frantic, rough sex, and had thought that was just what he liked. Spock’s gentleness and patience made his heart swell, though, and the constant drag of smoldering pleasure made him shudder and gasp for breath. 

Spock hit his prostate at one point and Jim choked out the Vulcan’s name. “There-“

Of course Spock was an excellent lover, and paid attention to the spot with extreme dedication. “Like this?” He asked, and pressed his middle finger to the nerve on each pass his fingers made. Jim nodded his head frantically, biting his lip to hold back a moan. 

He could feel every nerve inside of his body, alight and feverish with sex. He felt his legs begin to tremble again and reached down to grab Spock’s wrist. “Enough,” he said. “Come on, come on, please-“

“Indulge me a moment longer,” Spock said, and began to scissor his fingers apart. 

Jim swore and tossed his head back. He couldn’t come untouched, or at least, he was relatively sure he couldn’t. Spock was pushing that theory. “Please, Spock,” he said. “It’s enough, I promise, come on, come on-“

“I would like to repeat a line you fed me quite often in our childhood,” Spock said. He looked back up at Jim, and if it weren’t for the alien flush turning his features green, he damn well could have been doing paperwork. “You are not the boss of me.”

“Yes I am,” Jim laughed, and kicked Spock in the back with the heel of his foot. "Come on, Captain's orders."

"That is not only unethical, but-"

"Spock," Jim said. "I'd like to feed you a line from our childhood, now. 'If you have nothing nice to say, then shut up and fuck me.'"

“I do not believe that is how that particular saying went,” Spock said, bu his lips quirked up in one corner. Nearly a smile. 

He sat up and then swiftly removed his briefs, not taking the time to make any fanfare of the event. Jim wished he would have. Spock’s erection was tantalizing, flushed mint and ridged on both sides. It was nearly human, but just off enough to hint at Spock’s Vulcan heritage. Jim loved it immediately and scrambled to sit up, pulling Spock down on top of him and into a sloppy kiss even as the Vulcan was in the act of rolling a condom down over his shaft.

“Spock,” he said. “Spock I love you so much.”

“I love you as well,” Spock said, quietly. He sounded nearly ashamed, but Jim took no offense in it. They could work on that later- they had the rest of forever to eradicate any shame Spock had in his emotions. 

And then Spock was pressing it. It was hot, and heavy, and the drag was perfect, and Spock went just slow enough to make Jim feel like he was being teased. He rocked in and out slowly, one inch at a time, until he was finally fully seated within Jim. 

Jim, for his part, felt he had been extraordinarily patient until then, and deserved a reward. He wrapped one leg over Spock’s hip and moved them together, smiling into Spock’s hair as the Vulcan groaned. 

“Nice, huh?” Jim asked. He kept rolling his hips, slowly and steady. “God, we’ve been missing out. We could have been doing this _all the time_.”

“Kaiidth,” Spock said, “For we have the future.”

And that they did. Jim put one hand on Spock’s shoulder blade and one hand on the back of Spock’s head. He kept his nose pressed into Spock’s bangs as the Vulcan picked up the tempo and began to rock into Jim, steadily, deeply, gently. 

Jim felt he would burst- that he would come flying apart and melt all at once. He sighed little half-words in Vulcan and Standard into Spock’s skin, flitting between holding to Spock’s back and running his fingers over Spock’s hand in deep Vulcan kisses. Spock’s noises were going to be the death of him, breathy and desperate, and heavy with emotion… 

Jim whispered, “Ashayam.”

Spock’s hips stuttered and he pulled back, looking down at Jim with blown pupils. He crushed their mouths together, groaning. 

Jim watched him as Spock pulled back, panting, his hips losing their exact rhythm. They were both close. Jim reached up, cupping Spock’s cheeks, and captured Spock’s gaze. 

“Taluhk,” he said. _Precious_. “Ashalik.” _Darling._

“Jim-“

“Petakov, sem-rik, tel-kam.” _Dearly loved, fascinating, dear._

Spock reached between them and grasped Jim firmly, his hand still slicked with lube, and began to stroke him in time. Spock began to rock into him faster, and his hand followed. Jim lost the capacity for words and scrambled for purchase at Spock’s back with his hand, digging his heals into the mattress. The fire inside of him was burning to a point, all consuming and blinding. 

He felt himself shaking and managed a, “Spock-“ before he let out a long, drawn cry of ecstasy. He collapsed onto the mattress, boneless as he spilled over Spock’s fingers. Spock was not far behind. He thrust a few times more before orgasming. 

He fell bodily onto Jim, evidently trying to catch his breath. Jim was in the same boat- he drew in labored breath and mindlessly pet at Spock’s hair, waiting to come down from his high. 

Eventually, Spock pulled out and rolled over to lay on his back, staring up at the ceiling. His breathing had returned to normal, but he was still flushed. Jim mechanically collected the spent condom and then walked the short distance to their bathroom to dispose of it. He grabbed a washcloth and wet it with warm water from the sink, cleaning himself quickly before bringing it back to the bed to swipe Spock’s stomach with. 

He laughed. Spock looked nearly asleep, and Jim’s ejaculate was growing tacky in his chest hair. “Spock,” he admonished. “Don’t go passing out on me, you’ll be cranky if I let you fall asleep all filthy.”

Spock grunted. 

Jim rolled his eyes good-naturedly and then bent over Spock to do the work himself. 

“You still smell like campfire,” Jim said. 

“That is what is likely to occur when one is in close proximity to fire for an extended period of time.”

“Smart-ass.”

“My ‘ass’ has no intelligence of its own, but I am willing to accept that you are merely recognizing my intelligence in full. Therefore, I believe the proper response would be to thank you.”

“Again. Smart-ass.” Jim chucked the washrag over the edge of the bed and threw himself down next to Spock.

For a moment, he worried that Spock wouldn’t want to touch now that there was no logical reason for it, but Spock must have sensed his thoughts. He took Jim’s wrist and then rolled over, pulling Jim against his back so that they were spooning. Jim smiled and pressed his face into Spock’s neck.

“We should really talk,” he yawned.

“Affirmative.” 

“Tomorrow,” Jim decided. 

“That would be agreeable.”

Jim chuckled, lightly. “Night, Spock.”

“Goodnight, Jim.” A pause, and then, “It is my duty as your best friend to remind you of my undying love.”

“I love you too, Spock.” He kissed the back of Spock’s neck, like he’d always wanted to, and felt his heart sing. “Goodnight.”

* * *

 

  


Jim stared at Bones. The doctor scowled and said immediately, “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“I came all this way down here to welcome you back on board, and this is the thanks I get?” Jim couldn’t fight down the smile on his face, nor could he hide the extra pep in his step. He was undeniably, unbelievably, purely happy, for the first time in recent memory.

He’d been excited to give Bones the good news, but the black eye and scuffed forehead Bones sported, along with his opening line, were too good to pass up on.

“As your captain,” Jim taunted, “I have the right to know about any altercations my crew members may have gotten themselves into.”

“I already got your permission for my damn altercation, so you can stick it where the sun don’t shine.”

Jim grinned in manic delight. “You got a sex wound?”

Bones whirled on him. “Keep your voice down, wouldya? You’d think you want this whole damn starship to know about my personal business.”

Jim laughed. “Oh, Bones, you devil.”

“Horns.” Bones spat out. “I should have known they would get in the way.”

Jim laughed even harder.

“Shut up,” Bones growled. “It’s hardly funny.”

Nurse Chapel looked up at they entered sick bay. “What’s not funny, Len?”

“Yeah,  _Len_ ,” Jim teased. “What’s not funny?”

“Chapel, I want examination room three ready in twenty minutes. Cadet O’lesh is due for their physical.” He started straight into his office.

Chapel sighed and rolled her eyes. Jim offered a sympathetic shrug.

“I’ll get a nurse on that right away, sir.” She drawled.

Bones paused in the doorway to his office. “… Thank you,” he added, gruffly.

Jim stepped in after him, allowing the door to slide shut.

“Now.” Bones stepped around his desk and then grabbed a med kit from off the wall, popping it open to loot the dermal regenerator from within. He sat heavily in his desk chair and held it to his face. “What’s got you looking so damn pleased, hm?”

“Aw, don’t be that way,” Jim stood by the door, rocking back and forth on his heals, face consumed by his smile. “Can’t I be happy just to be happy?”

“No.” Bones said. He squinted. “What happened?”

Jim just smiled wider.

A second ticked by. Bones’s eyes went wide. “No.”

Jim nodded his head, biting his bottom lip.

“You didn’t.” Bones stood, setting the regenerator aside. “You told Spock, didn’t you?”

“Who’s a coward now?”

“Jim, you son of a bitch.” Bones smiled wide and stepped forward, grabbing Jim and hauling him into a hug. “You actually did it?”

“And then I got laid.” Jim sighed.

“Didn’t need to know,” Bones said, but he was still smiling nonetheless. “Jim, that’s great! I hate to say it, but… I’m happy for you, kid. I may not see eye-to-eye with Spock on the best of days, but I’ll be damned if he’s not a good man. You two are good for each other.”

“And this means I don’t have to feel weird about calling you both my best friend,” Jim laughed. “One best friend, one boyfriend.”

“Just be sure to remember which is which,” Bones said. “If you call me ‘dear’ I may just have to kill you.”

“But darling!” Jim cried.

Bones stepped away from the hug, trying to pull his grumpy facade back into place. “Okay, party’s over. I’m no longer happy for you. In fact, I never was. Go back to the bridge and be a Captain for once.”

“I’m hurt.” Jim leaned against the desk, still smiling.

Bones sat back down. He picked the regenerator back up and pressed it to his eye, but it couldn’t hide his smile. “Really, though, Jim… you’re happy? He’s what you want?”

“More than anything.” Jim said. “And I… I am happy. Happier than I’ve been in a long, long time. This is it for me, Bones. This is… this is the love I always wanted, ever since I was a kid.”

“Then I’ll be happy for you,” Bones said, and smiled.

Jim let out a happy sigh.

“Now go,” Bones demanded. “Back to the bridge where you belong. I ain’t catching no love-sickness, and you’re acting extra contagious today.”

“Alright, alright, I’m going.” Jim made his way to the door, but paused when Bones called after him.

“Jim.”

He turned around.

Bones just chuckled. “Good job.”

* * *

  


Jim swallowed as Spock set himself on the floor, crossing his legs. He bounced his knees and tried to play it cool as he took up a meditation pose to mirror Spock’s, but the Vulcan saw through him.

“If you are nervous-“

“Excited.”

Spock gave him a look.

“Fine, fine, go on. Read me the disclaimers.”

“If you are nervous, we do not have to go through with this. A full-meld is not something done casually, Jim. It is… the most intimate act one can partake in- all physical activities we have so far engaged in pale in comparison. There is no shame in turning back or changing your mind.”

“Nope,” Jim said. “I want it.”

Spock nodded.

“If you don’t want to, though…” Jim trailed off.

“Jim,” Spock said, seriously. “For many, many years now, I have been alone within my mind. It is a painful thing, for a Vulcan. To meld with you has been one of my strongest, and most profound, desires.”

Jim smiled. He leaned forward, closing his eyes. “Then what are you waiting for?”

Spock’s hand graced the side of his face. “My mind to your mind,” Spock said.

_ My thoughts. To your thoughts. _

It was like falling into a pile of leaves. Flashes of image, and sensation, and sound. Light and colors together, bending and shaping around each other, the feeling of falling, of being caught, of rushing past things he couldn’t quite reach. He heard voices and small catches of music, the sand in the wind, I-Chaya’s howl, the crack of a ball against a bat. Amanda’s laugh, Sarek’s cold eyes, a girl with beautiful black hair and a hand raised in a practiced Vulcan salute. More Vulcans, even one with kind eyes, and long hair, and a beard, and humans, and aliens, and the dunes of Perse III, and the glint of the Endar suns, and three pink moons, chasing each other through the sky, and-

Spock.

Just Spock.

Everything Spock had been, everything he was, everything he would be. Jim fell into him and over him and around him, and Spock was within him in the same manner. He felt Spock’s love, like a deep, heated river, and Spock’s logic like a blade made to cull the tide from becoming a drowning force. He wanted and had, he touched and was touching, he was parted and never parted, always and never, perfect and not. It was everything he’d ever hoped for, and outside of his head, he knew there would be no way to describe the sensation.

But god, Spock was something. He could feel himself in Spock’s mind- every grain of sand in the Vulcan landscape, every atom burning in the Vulcan sun, every leaf on Spock’s tree, ever strand of hair on Spock’s head. He felt complete.

He felt right.

It only lasted a minute. Jim wasn’t sure he could stand anything more, without practice. When he came out of it Spock was cradling his head, tenderly, his eyes light with affection. He leaned forward and kissed Jim in the human way, chaste and wet.

And Spock finally spoke the word.

“T’hy’la.”

And Jim knew, beyond a measure of a doubt, that they were going to be okay.

  


 

  


  


FIN

**Author's Note:**

> If you like my work, consider checking out my original content [here](https://books2read.com/u/3R1aRn) or follow me [here](https://www.facebook.com/kandersonbooks/)!


End file.
